Just attended what I
hope will be the last Baby Shower of my life. It’s one of those things, like
Tupperware parties, that can stay with you for a long time. And like a bad
meal, it doesn’t go down well and the memorable parts are generally not the
ones that bring back the fondest of memories.
Actually, this one
was fine, but the lingering memories of past baby showers, wedding showers,
Tupperware parties, or just fashion/jewelry parties where you are expected to
buy something and make small talk,
are indelibly printed in large neon flashing warning signs in the remotest
corners of my brain box.
Someone noted later that
we left the party before they played games. Darn, I’m so sorry I missed the
games portion of the program. To quote Jack Nicholson, “I’d rather stick
needles in my eyes”. There must be a special corner in hell for those who came
up with the original idea of having women sit around and not only talk about
their horrific experiences in giving birth to their children, but also to tack
on some completely inane parlor game just to add insult to the original injury.
The poor pregnant
mother-to-be is usually ready to fortify herself with a nice stiff drink, which
she is unable to have due to the impending birth. And the mothers and
grandmothers all try to be helpful and malicious at the same time as they offer
advice and support, along with more horror stories.
Giving birth was
never meant to be anything but a momentous occasion, but the ritual of baby
showers does seem to be overkill. The best idea is to give the party for the
fathers-to-be, and include them in all the fun. Men are expected to do more these
days in the diaper-changing and hands-on parenting department, so it seems
fitting that they should also be included (subjected) to the perils and
pleasures of the obligatory baby shower.
No comments:
Post a Comment